She looked down at the gun in her hands. She had to do something.
Another shot.
Alex had told her that no matter what she heard or saw she needed to stay put. It was her only way to survive. She reached for the door handle and started to twist but stopped herself.
Another shot.
Three more.
Silence.
She couldn’t see movement in the corridor, and her fingers began to shake.
“No,” she whispered.
She couldn’t bear the thought of going out into the hallway, but staying here wasn’t going to help her. What if the prisoners weren’t dead though? What if Alex and Bryson were?
What a terrible plan this had been. Surely they hadn’t been killed. They were just quiet, possibly waiting for more prisoners to come.
She looked down at the prison guard on the ground. Two-days dead. He hadn’t gotten the chance to see what was happening outside the gates of this prison. So much death surrounded her—so much death even in this small spot in the prison.
We should have never come here…
“Is anyone out there?” she called. Her voice felt like it was stuck in a box—that no one would be able to hear her through the thick glass and door. “Please!”
No answer.
She looked at the door handle, knowing she shouldn’t make her way out into the prison. She didn’t know this place, and if the remaining prisoners found her, they would possibly do terrible things to her.
She had a gun, though, and there couldn’t have been that many prisoners left. It had just been one corridor with them in it, and surely some of them just wanted to get out. They weren’t animals. Not all of them were motivated to kill without good reason.
She swore under her breath and grabbed the door handle. The door opened, and she held the pistol in front of her. She was met with silence and a thickness of sweat and moisture in the air that hadn’t been there before, along with the smell of hot metal and gunpowder.
She looked at the bodies on the ground, her eyes darting to each face as she looked for Bryson and Alex.
She found Bryson first. He lay on the ground with his eyes open, short breaths escaping his lips rapidly.
She bent down next to him, and he looked up at her, his eyes wide. “I can’t hear anything,” he said.
He pulled himself up onto his butt, then checked himself for wounds. Somehow, he had come out unscathed.
When she saw Alex, she nearly jumped. He was looking at her, his eyes wide, his lips moving silently. A bullet had gone through his chest, and he seemed to be having trouble getting words out. Blood poured from his wound, and if they didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to bleed out. She worried the bullet might have hit his heart or an artery, but she couldn’t know.
Gwen sat beside him and held his hand. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Gwen said over and over.
It wasn’t okay. Alex might die and there was nothing she could do about it. Alex kept shaking his head as much as he could, struggling to say something. Finally, he mustered the strength to lift a hand and point.
Gwen craned her neck around but only saw a blank wall.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “What are you pointing at?”
Alex’s lips moved, but he didn’t have the strength to speak. He jutted his finger outward, but it was still at the wall. Gwen looked in that direction again, then she looked over her other shoulder.
A shadow of a man loomed over her. She gasped and let go of Alex, then jumped to her feet.
The prisoner held his side as blood dripped between his fingers. He walked toward her like a zombie needing the next bite of flesh. She held up the pistol in front of her. She didn’t yell for him to stop. She didn’t warn him. She simply pulled the trigger and let off three rounds into his chest. The prisoner flew backward and landed on his back among the other corpses.
Gwen fell to her knees and crawled toward Alex. She looked him in the eyes, but he had closed them. She could see shallow breaths pumping up and down, but she knew they wouldn’t continue for much longer.
Gwen looked all around her at the bodies on the ground—so many of them surrounding her.
They had to get out of there.
The problem was, she didn’t know her way around the prison. She didn’t know how far the truck was or if it was even still there.
She reached into Alex’s pocket and produced the keys to the truck, then she motioned for Bryson to follow her. She grabbed two more of Alex’s pistols and stuffed them into the back of her pants.
“I need you to help me with him,” she said, but Bryson couldn’t hear her. She looked up and grabbed him by the shoulders. With wide motions, she told Bryson to help her with Alex.
He looked down at Alex, skeptical, but he didn’t try to argue. Gwen grabbed Alex’s legs, Bryson grabbed him under the arms, and together they lifted.
Gwen walked backward, leading them down the corridor—leaving behind Trent’s body—one foot after another into the darkness of the prison.
Chapter Forty
When Leland saw Cora, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Yelling her name had been an act of desperation. He did it out of the hope that someone, anyone, would recognize who he was trying to reach and point him in the right direction. He didn’t expect to walk down the hallway and come face-to-face with his daughter.
The two of them ran to each other and stopped just short. Leland didn’t know what to say at first. He felt so overwhelmed with happiness in the moment that the words caught in his throat.
“I didn’t expect you to leave Hope,” Cora said. “Is Gwen all right?”
Leland nodded. He didn’t feel the need to burden Cora with stories of the prison taking over the town and their struggle for survival. She would learn enough about that soon. “Yeah, she’s all right. I need to get you out of here.”
“I have to admit,” she said, “I wasn’t looking forward to leaving Chicago on my own. That’s a long walk.”
Leland didn’t mention that he didn’t have a car, but if he abandoned Henry, then there would be enough room for him and Cora on the motorcycle. If it was still there. They just had to get gas. Part of him figured that was a longshot, however.
He couldn’t just abandon Henry. The two of them had traveled all this way. They had only known each other for the last two days, but they had each other’s backs and had fought alongside each other. Henry was somebody Leland could trust. In a world like this, that was something to be valued.
“I’m with someone else,” Leland said. “His name is Henry, and he’s looking for his brother. Unless he gives me the go-ahead, I don’t feel good about leaving him behind.”
“Why would you have to leave him behind?”
“As of right now all I have is a motorcycle, and…” Leland trailed off. “It’s a long story, but that’s not the vehicle we started with. Getting back home might not be so easy.”
“Well, I’m with someone too,” Cora said. She turned and walked to a room with an open door. Leland’s eyebrows creased, then he stepped forward and looked into the room. It was difficult to see anything, but he was able to make out a small form lying on the bed asleep. It was a girl.
“I don’t think her mother survived,” Cora whispered. “She was either abandoned, or her mother was in serious trouble and had to leave her behind. I don’t feel good about leaving her here, but I don’t feel good about taking her away from her home without trying to find her mother first.”
Leland leaned against the door frame and sighed. “How bad has the chaos been over the last couple of days?”
“Terrible,” she said. “I heard Michelle crying outside my building for hours before I finally went out there to help her. I would have gone back to my apartment, but I couldn’t. People were chasing us.”
Leland looked back at her with an eyebrow cocked. “Who?”
Cora shook her head and shrugged. “Just bad people, I guess. They saw a potentially helpless person and wante
d to come after me.”
“Did they get to you?”
Cora shook her head. “No.”
He felt relief, but a rage still rumbled inside him—that untamable anger that threatened to take him over. The last time he had faced it was when Gwen was in peril, but it had passed. Now, the realization about how much danger Cora had been in threatened to waken it again.
“What do you think I should do?” Cora asked. “About Michelle?”
Leland looked at the little girl again. He saw the bandage on her leg and the sweat trickling down her forehead. She was sick and was probably under the best care she could be with Cora.
“At the moment,” he said, “I don’t see a scenario where you could just abandon her, but I don’t think you would be doing either of yourselves a favor by staying here and looking for her mother. If the girl had been out there for hours and was injured, then I would say that chances of finding her mother are slim.”
“So, what do you think I should do?”
Leland knew Cora wasn’t looking for his opinion to judge what she should do; rather, she wanted to see where Leland stood on helping other people in a situation like this. Leland’s natural reaction was to help his family and all else be damned, but he wasn’t that cold. “Practically speaking, I would leave her here,” Leland said. “Morally? Well, I think there isn’t much question we have to take her with us.”
Cora eased in her stance as though she had been expecting a different answer. She stepped forward and leaned against the other side of the door frame. “I couldn’t just sit there and listen to her cry,” she said.
“That’s your mother in you,” Leland said with a grin. “She couldn’t stand to pass by a person in need. It took years of persuasion before she stopped picking up hitchhikers on the highway.”
“You would tell her the worst stories, wouldn’t you?”
“Some true, some embellished,” Leland nodded. “Whatever it took to keep her safe.”
With his words, he felt his stomach sink. Her death was still so fresh. So painful. He could protect her from hitchhikers, but when it came to cancer, he had been powerless.
“I miss her,” Cora said.
“Me too.” Leland swallowed back tears and stood straight. “How long does the girl need to sleep? She’s sick, isn’t she?”
Cora nodded. “She’s sick, but I got her antibiotics. She will be fine, but it will take a little time for her strength to come back.”
“I’m trying to determine if it would be safer to leave tonight or head out in the morning,” Leland said.
“Morning,” Cora said. “At least, based on the noises I’ve heard throughout the night. That’s when most of the crazy stuff happens.”
Leland nodded, unsure of what to do about Henry. Staying here through the night would give Henry more time to look for his brother, but it was also more time to get into trouble. If they only had a vehicle, Leland would have left that moment.
Just as he reached for the radio, it crackled and he heard a voice on the other end. It was Henry. “Leland? Leland, are you there? I need your help.”
Chapter Forty-One
“I have no doubt the two of you are working together,” Elias said as he paced the room in front of Henry and Sam.
Henry had been tied to a chair across from his brother so that he faced him under the glow of the hot light hanging above them.
Henry wasn’t sure Sam had looked him in the eye once since he had entered the room. He knew there was guilt there, but he didn’t want his little brother to feel that way. Whatever was going on, everything was in balance now. True, they were both probably about to die, but Henry wasn’t sure why. Here this man was, pacing around them, rambling on and on about the two of them working together. Of course, Henry had expected Sam to be in some kind of trouble based on the condition of his apartment. He just didn’t know exactly what kind.
“You better believe I’m working with my brother,” Henry said.
Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Idiot,” he said under his breath.
“I was waiting for confirmation,” Elias said, “but I thought you were the brother.”
“Who are you?” Henry shook his head, then looked at Sam. “Who is this guy?”
Sam simply shrugged.
“Don’t let him lie to you, Henry,” Elias said. “The two of us have gotten to know each other well over the past couple of years. I probably know more about your brother than you do.”
Henry looked up at Elias and squinted. “Who are you?”
“You being Sam’s brother, I can now be certain that the two of you are not working together, at least not in the capacity that I figured. You’ve been too busy fighting off rapists in the prison, haven’t you?” Henry didn’t answer the question. Instead, he repeated himself slowly.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Elias. Your brother and I have been chatting online for the last couple of years. Collaborating, really. He and his group of friends dug a little too deep. Deeper than they probably wish they had gone. And I want to figure out what he knows. Before I kill him, of course.”
Henry looked at Sam, who still hadn’t made eye contact since the two of them were tied up together. “What is he talking about, Sam?”
Sam didn’t say anything and seemed resigned to keeping his mouth shut.
“No,” Elias said to Henry. “I understand you aren’t smart enough to work with your brother in whatever he was trying to uncover, but I’m not certain you’re not working with him to some other capacity. And it would seem you have some help.” Elias held up Henry’s radio and tapped it against his palm. “If I were to press this button and begin talking, who would I reach?”
“Your mother,” Henry said without missing a beat. “We’ve been talking for some time. I was trying to get her to move in with me, but she said she wants to get to know me better first.”
Elias stood in front of Henry and seemed calm. Henry was trying to get a rise out of him, but Elias seemed like the kind of person who wasn’t easy to stir. He meant business, and anger didn’t seem to be his MO. He was cold. Calculated. Not the kind of person to care about mother insults.
“I don’t want to have to torture either one of you before we shoot you in the head, but it is not beyond our capacity. We will get the information we need from you regardless of the method. You essentially get to choose what that method is. I would advise you to take the path of least resistance. I, of course, will not be administering the torture. I don’t have the stomach for that kind of thing. But we have plenty of people who enjoy violence. I stay clear of them. They give me the creeps. They get off on seeing torture and people writhing in pain. They’re the kind of people who would be on death row if we hadn’t picked them up.” Elias shook his head with a smirk on his face. “You can truly find uses for every kind of person out there. You would be surprised at how much people are wasted within prisons.” He nodded at Henry. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
Henry didn’t respond, but Elias continued anyway.
“I find it interesting, your situation. The fact that the older brother took the fall for what the younger brother did. The only murderer in this room is Sam.”
Sam looked up at Elias, obviously alarmed by the fact that Elias knew so much about him. It didn’t take a genius to guess that much. That part of Sam’s life hadn’t come up in their online chats.
Elias chuckled. “It’s pretty great, the devotion your older brother has for you. Personally, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, but again, I’m also the kind of person who can’t administer torture. It would seem that your brother, Henry, has the more virtuous side, while you, Sam, are a dirtbag.”
Sam didn’t argue with him, but Henry wasn’t going to let some stranger talk about his brother that way. “You’re the dirtbag for tying us up like this.”
Elias kept the grin on his face. “You honestly have no idea why you were here, do you?”
It was appa
rent Henry wasn’t going to get many answers from Elias, so he looked at Sam. “What’s going on?”
Sam didn’t look at him.
“Seriously, answer me.”
“Well, I would like to know the same thing from you,” Elias said. “Obviously, prison didn’t keep you in during the attack. But two days later and you’re out there looking for your brother? The one who betrayed you?”
“He didn’t betray me,” Henry said. “I took the fall for him. I insisted. Sam did the right thing.”
“Sam let his brother get a life sentence for something he didn’t do. What Sam did was stab his stepfather more than twenty times in the back. What Sam did was cold-blooded murder. There is simply no getting around that. And I have a feeling, Henry, that you wouldn’t have stabbed him in the back. Not even one time.”
For some reason, Elias was trying to pit the two of them against each other. It wasn’t going to work. Henry had already spent five years in a terrible prison. Some of that time was spent reflecting on why he was there and wondering whether or not he had made the right choice.
He remembered the moments following Scott’s murder. He remembered taking the knife from Sam and making sure Scott’s blood was on his hands and his clothes. He remembered thinking to himself that Scott had doled out enough of a punishment to Sam that he didn’t deserve to go to a place like prison for taking out someone as detestable as him. He also remembered Sam having promise. Potential. His little brother had brains that could’ve been used for good. Now it had seemed in the last five years Sam had done little more than get himself into trouble. Still, Henry wasn’t going to allow someone like Elias to pit him against his little brother. If they had issues, they could deal with them later. As it stood, the only evil in the room was the one who tied people to chairs.
“I wouldn’t change a thing,” Henry said.
Fallen Earth | Book 2 | Aftermath Page 20
